Life of a King
by Nikki1
Summary: GoodThranduil! Song-fic to Yellowcard's "Life of a Salesman" featuring, you guessed it, littleolder Legolas and Thranduil...sappy but not overly, he he he at least I don't think so! Please R&R!


Hi there…I just wrote this on a whim…it's a songfic to Yellowcard's song Life of a Salesman, which I do not own!!

* * *

Never before in his short life had the young Legolas Thranduilion been so utterly confused. As both the son of a king and one of the youngest elves to be born unto Arda, he had up to now lived a very sheltered life full of pampering, love and adoration. He was, and had always been, the very center of his beloved parents lives and was considered the gem of Mirkwood, the darling of his Silvan people.

And now…he felt a sharp pain rising in the depths of his chest and billowing outwards in every direction. Salty wind whipped his baby soft hair sharply against his face and the spray of the turbulent blue-green waves mingled with the crystalline tears rolling down his now pale round cheeks as he watched a magnificent silver boat sail ever so quickly away.

Oh, how excited he had been when first he saw this titan of a vessel docked at the port in the Grey Havens! His thrill had been enough to force from his fragile mind the tense and distressingly gloomy atmosphere in which his group had traveled. The elfling wanted to sail in this boat more than anything and when he saw several guards moving his naneth's luggage onto the ship his anticipation absolutely soared!

But then his naneth was holding him tight, sobs racking her slight form. Legolas simply laughed at his silly nana, and told her to cease her crying, "Nana, you do not want to be glum for our trip, do you?"

"My darling little one, I am afraid that I must take this trip alone," answered his mother in a quivering voice, his father standing quietly in the background.

"But nana," he laughed once more, "Where could you be going that you would not wish to have your little leaf with you?"

Her eyes went strangely vague as she said softly, "I have once heard it described as a place where the hurt ends, and where healing begins, and there the grass grows soft and white. And there the sun burns crimson bright, and there the moon-bird rests from his flight to cool in the peppermint wind."

Legolas hadn't understood then what his mother was saying, nor had he understood later when she turned to board the ship without him or his father. He still didn't understand, as he watched his mother's vessel sail away from Arda, away from her home, away from him.

"Legolas," called a familiar voice softly.

Pulling himself out of his trance, the young one lifted sorrowful eyes to his father who kneeled beside him in the sand.

Thranduil gently brushed away his son's tears, his heart breaking even more at the sight of his precious, bright imp of a child so quickly dulled. He quickly pulled the tiny form into his strong arms, determined to never again let him be hurt so deeply.

"Why did she leave us Ada?," asked Legolas in a hollow voice unlike the lilting tones gifted him by the Valar.

"She had to, Legolas, though you cannot understand why. Indeed, neither do I."

"But Ada, are you or are you not the king? Couldn't you just tell her no?" inquired Legolas as he rested his head upon his father's broad shoulder, taking comfort in the strength of a king.

Sighing heavily, Thranduil said, "My son, your naneth suffered here. The evil nature of this world damaged her brilliant spirit. Tell me, would it be right of me to ask her to remain, though I longed to more than anything?"

"I suppose not.." answered Legolas dejectedly.

"Legolas, you are yet young, but I pray you listen to this advice. That for which we wish is not always the right way, the right path to take. In fact," he chuckled dryly, " what we wish and that which is right are often complete opposites. Learn to do what is right, my precious boy."

With that, Thranduil gave one more glance to the sea and wished his wife one last farewell.

* * *

What's a dad for, dad?

Tell me why I'm here dad

Whisper in my ear

That I'm growing up to be a better man, dad

Everything is fine, dad

Proud that you are mine dad

Cuz I know I'm growing up

To be a better man

* * *

Many years later…

Thranduil dragged a heavy hand over tired eyes. He was finally finished with the last of these blasted papers. Excusing his aide for the rest of the night, Thranduil poured himself a goblet of fine, strong wine and rather than sitting by a roaring fire to relax, the elven lord took to roaming the halls. After several minutes he stopped before a familiar set of impressive double doors, intricately carved to mimic a forest scene. Pausing only to caress the figures lovingly, Thranduil pushed the doors open and stepped into the room.

His son's chambers were just as they had been before the young elf had left for Imladris. The king picked out his son's favorite chair and sat for quite a while, simply going through favorite memories of his son.

After several moments Thranduil rummaged through his impressive robes and produced a letter, now well worn after being carried about in Thranduils robes for several days. Though letters from his infrequent travels abroad were normally a delight for the doting father, this particular message was made of different stuff entirely.

Scanning the parchment quickly, Thranduil was, as always, filled with a strange mixture of pride and fear. The mere thought of his son willingly traveling to the bowels of Mordor was enough to steal the very breath from his lips, yet as he read the last lines of the note, admiration for this miraculous being who was his son made him pause in wonderment.

"Ada," it read, "you surely know that I would never willingly place myself in danger, if not for my own sake then for yours, as I know how dear I am to your kingly heart, as you are to mine. And though I have often longed for such historic adventures, I truly wish for nothing more than to be home with you, protecting our people from encroaching darkness. Yet, as a wise elf once told me, what we wish and that which is right are often complete opposites.

"I will not pretend that my survival through this trial is an assurance. Should I indeed perish, know that I love you, Ada. I doubt raising a stubborn little imp of an elfling without a helpmate was a very easy task, but you certainly undertook it to the best of your capabilities. You always seemed to understand me, and most importantly, you taught me what was right. I have admired you from my first breath Ada. Know that I will forever be that same elfling who stood by the sea, watching you tower over me and now that I am older, I want to be the same as you."

Closing his eyes and resting his head back, Thranduil murmured into the silence of the room, "Take care my little elf."

Father

I will always be

That same boy that

Stood by the sea

And watched you tower

Over me

Now I'm older

I wanna be

The same as you

* * *

Whats a dad for dad

Taught me how to stand dad

Took me by the hand

And you showed me how to be a bigger man dad

Listen when you talk dad

Follow where you walk dad

And you know that I will always

Do the best I can

I can

"Ada?" cried Legolas as he bounded up the stairs to his father's court.

Father

I will always be

That same boy that

Stood by the sea

And watched you tower

Over me

His ears perked up as he felt more than heard the call of his son, and he leapt to his feet, ignoring the petitioners and advisors filling the court.

Now I'm older

I wanna be

The same as you

The same as you

For there stood his son in the doorway, whole and hale, back from the ends of Arda.

Did the best you could dad

Always understood dad

Taught me what was right dad

Opened up my eyes dad

Proud to call him my dad

Wanna be the same as you

"I'm home."

* * *

Awwww….::sniff::sniff:: I love sappy father/son relationships….which is why I love this song!! If you havent heard of Yellowcard or at least havent heard this song, definitely check it out…

Oh yeah, if that line about the grass growing soft and white yada yada yada seemed familiar that's because it's from the Shel Silverstein poem "Where the Sidewalk Ends".

I love those lines and really wanted to work them in here…so they're not mine! In case you're interested this is how that paragraph of the poem goes:

There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins,

And there the grass grows soft and white,

And there the sun burns crimson bright

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

So yeah…I love that! He he he….please review!!


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